Another Side of Kim
by waffledude999
Summary: Kim and Jack have a fight. A big one. So Jack wishes he'd never met Kim. So when Jack sees Kim next, something odd is about her. And the rest of the gang too. In fact, the whole world seems different, so different in fact that Jack suspects something dangerous happened, and it's his fault. How will Jack get everything back to normal, and get his girl at the same time? JackxKim
1. Chapter 1

Another Side Of Kim

Jack's PoV

"I think I like Kim" I said to Jerry. He looked at me with his dark, brown eyes. "Like a lot." "Like more than a friend?" Jerry gasped. He looked as confused as ever. I laughed. "Yeah, more than a friend" I said. "She just makes me feel really happy, even when I'm sad. And she's hot, funny, nice yet sassy, hot, cool, sweet and _hot_!" "Yeah, Kim is smokin'!" Jerry cried.

"Dude, you gotta ask her out!" Jerry cried. I sighed. "I can't" I muttered. "Why not?" Jerry asked. "It's easy as! Watch and learn!" Then he suddenly got up from our booth in Falafel Phil's and walked up to a blonde, fair-skinned girl who was talking to a group of girls next to us.

"Is it just me, or am I in heaven?" Jerry asked the girl. She looked at him, then turned to her friends, confused. "Why?" she asked him. "'Cause I'm looking at an angel right now" Jerry answered, grinning cockily at the girl. Trust Jerry to use the oldest pick-up line in the book. And I would know, I've used that one a million times.

She blushed, and her friends giggled. "Here's my number, call me sometime" Jerry said, handing her a small strip of paper with a list of numbers printed on. He gave her another smile, then walked over to me.

"See, easy as" he said. "I still can't" I said, pouting. "Why not?" Jerry asked. "Have you seen how many boys Kim has in love with her!" I cried. "Some of them are Year 10's! And some are football players! And others are . . . !" "I get it!" Jerry interrupted.

"Just walk up to her, put your hand on hers, look her in the eyes and say 'Kimberly Rae Crawford, you are the most hottest girl I know. I want to go out with you'". As Jerry said this, he held my hands and looked into my eyes. "That's sweet, I think" I said, confused.

Jerry looked out the window, towards the dojo. "Look, there she is now!" he cried. I looked over out the window, and sure enough there was Kim walking with her friends, about seven or so girls, and about five boys, all of them laughing at something Kim said.

"Go and ask her out now!" Jerry said, practically pushing me out the doors of Falafel Phil's and towards Kim. I bumped into Kim, who was laughing. "Oh, hi Jack!" she said, smiling at me. She looked smoking hot today, with black ray bans, wearing a white 'Rihanna' shirt, with tiny straps, and _short _shorts. She had her tied up into a loose ponytail at the side of her head.

In other words, she looked hot. The other boys had certainly noticed too.

"No, I don't have Milton's answers!" Kim cried, suddenly a worried expression on her face. What? "No! What are you talking about?" I asked, suspicious.

Has she stolen Milton's answers for the upcoming test? "No, 'course not!" Kim quickly said. I eyed her curiously.

"Jack, can I talk to y'all in the dojo, alone?" Kim asked, anxiously. Was she going to admit her love for me? Was she _finally_ going to ask me out? "Yeah, sure" I said calmly. "I'll be just a sec, guys" she told her friends, then led me into the dojo.

"So," she finally said, gasping. "There's this boy I like." Does she mean me? Of course she means me! What girl doesn't like me!

"He's amazin'! He's funny, sweet, athletic and he's so _hot_!" she said, stressing the word hot. Yeah she means me. "It's just that, I really like him, and I wanna ask him out" she started. My heart was in my mouth. "But I get nervous every time I wanna ask him out or tell him that I like him!

So, Kim gets nervous when she wants to ask me out huh? "What's this boy's name?" I asked, smirking. "Brad" she answered, smiling and looking giddy. My smile, though, dropped like a ton of bricks. "What!" I cried. "Brad!" she said. "As in Brad Wolfe, captain of the football team, hockey team, rugby team and soccer team, hottest boy in the school!"

I could feel all my muscles tensing up and my knuckles were white. All the blood was in my head. "Brad! I cried. "Brad I'm-so-cool-'cause-I-have-my-own-fan-club Wolfe!" My voice was getting louder and louder with every syllable.

Kim looked at me with her big, brown, innocent eyes. She looked alarmed at my sudden change of heart. "What do y'all have against Brad?" she asked, looking challenging. "He's sweet, funny, considerate, nice, super hot and muscles like a pro-wrestler!" "That's just it Kim!" I replied. "He has it all just because he uses ten different types of hair gel and he is captain of every single guys sports team at Seaford High!"

"I hate how Brad has every thing he wants just by smiling at someone! I hate how he can make any girl fall for him just by looking their way! I hate how teachers treat him my like the president! I hate how he beats me in every single thing but karate, but say's I only beats him 'cause karate's for weirdoes! But do you know what I hate most about Brad?" Kim looked confused. "I hate how he now owns your heart when I've been longing for it since I first laid eyes on you in the cafeteria." I muttered the last bit only loud enough for Kim to hear, keeping my eyes on hers all through out my speech.

Kim looked at the floor. "Sorry, Jack" she said. "What for?" I muttered. "For not noticing that y'all liked me" she answered. "So, will you give me a chance?" I asked, hopeful. "Sorry" she said, shaking her head. "I can't." Now I was confused. "Why not?" I asked. "I think I'm in love with Brad" she murmured, trying to rush her words, quickly and quietly, so I wouldn't understand her. But I did.

"What!" I shouted, stomping my foot. How could Kim, a sweet, kind, thoughtful, considerate, funny girl be in love with a spiteful, self-absorbed, selfish, rude guy?

"Sorry Jack!" Kim cried. "I'm sorry OK!" She turned to walk away, but turned around. "Jack, y'all have been happy enough goin' 'round datin' other girls, but when I want to finally date someone, y'all get well worked up!" she cried. She did have a point. I've been out with Donna Tobin, Kathie Davis, Emma Griffiths and Abbie Longman in the past month. "Well . . ." I started. "That's what I thought" Kim said, then started to walk away.

I suddenly felt very angry with Kim. I've been dropping hints for three years now, trying to let her now that I liked her, with no hope. I searched for three years looking for the perfect girl, but, again, with no hope. I have been waiting every single day for three years, wishing Kim to show just one sign of being into me, but finally, with no hope. I think now I have given up all hope.

"Fine, Kim!" I cried, just before she walked out the door. "But I just want to let you know that . . ." I searched for an insult mean and ruthless enough to hurt the ever-so-strong-and-mighty Kimberly Rae Crawford.

Then, all of a sudden, it came to me: "I wish I'd never met you! I wish I'd never caught your apple, protect you from Ricky Weaver, help you put Milton and Julie together, help you save the rat from Luke, work with you to save Tootsie! But most of all, I wish I'd never fallen in love with you!" Kim turned around quickly, and then walked out the door. I had seen her face long enough to know that she was crying.

That was when I regretted it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I woke up the next morning, and stretched my muscular arms out wide, releasing a long awaited yawn. I peered out the huge window in front of me, the bright sun greeted me with warm and cheerful rays of pure heat. I threw my covers off me, and placed my feet onto the wispy carpet, wriggiling my toes into the comforting black tufts of fur. I walked across the landing to the bathroom, and I stared at the figure in the gleaming mirror, groggily. The shaggy haired boy in the glass stared back, his hazel eyes full of eagerness to start the day, yet full of tiredness. As an attempt to fully wake up, I splashed cold water onto my face. The shock that followed was exhilarating, my eyes shooting wide open, and a shiver ran down my spine. I brushed my teeth, and added a dash of cologne to myself, a shot of strong, exotic coconut hit me right in the nose. I then dressed into a black v-neck and a blue plaid over-shirt. A pair of baggy, black jeans clung onto my thick legs, and blue hi-tops were clad on my feet. I checked myself over in the mirror, and smirked. Perfection!

Speaking of perfection, I hadn't had a text from Kim yet, to confirm she was coming to call for me this morning. We couldn't be late again. Not after the 'detention' with Mr Eveson trying to get his old high school sweetheart to take the restraining order off him. I shuddered at the thought, the unfortunate horror now fresh in my mind. Again.

I perched myself onto the bottom of the stairs, and scrolled through the endless list of texts on my phone. I narrowed my eyes when I saw all my previous conversations with Kim had been deleted. Or, they had disappeared. She could have deleted my number . . . after the row we had last night! I hit myself when I remembered the argument me and Kim had last night, over her latest crush, Brad Wolfe. I was just being paranoid, I know, but he is such a jerk. I can't picture him with Kim, putting aside that I don't want to picture Kim with anyone let alone Brad Wolfe.

10 minutes later

After countless debates with myself, I came to the conclusion that Kim was still mad at me (with every right to) and had decided to skate without me to school. I considered my options; wait here in the pointless hope that Kim was coming to fetch me, or leave now and save myself from another 'lost-love-search' detention with Mr Eveson. I chose to skate alone.

20 minutes later

I picked up my skateboard and pushed open the doors of Seaford High. I was met by many flirtatious looks from giggling girls, as I looked for three boys I paticulaly neede to get a certain blonde back.

I found the group of teenagers shouting to each other on the stairs, about who would beat each other in the up and coming Algebra test. Without being accused of having a favourite, I'd put my money on Milton.

When the trio spotted me walking over to them, they instantly picked themselves up and dusted themselves down. They seemed very nervous and were suddenly breaking sweat, over my arrival. Jerry hit Eddie, angry murmurs echoed around. "Hi guys" I greeted. Jerry's face broke into an excited grin, and struggled to keep his breathing down. "Hi Jack" he squeaked. I curiously raised my eyebrows, andcheckd Jerry over. "Jerry, are you alright?" He happily gasped when I said his name, and he turned to grin at Milton and Eddie. "He knows my name!" he shrieked, hervously twitching. "Course I know your name, we're friends right?" I said, unbelief evident in my voice, as I noted Jerry's strange behaviour. "We are?" he asked, hope clear in his expression. I nodded. "OK" he squeaked, grinning like a three year old on Christmas Day. He swivelled round to Milton and Eddie, who both looked baffled at the idea of me being Jerry's friend.  
"Jerry, what's wrong?" I inquired, crossing my arms and staring at him with a defiant look. "We do karate together, remember?" Jerry's face fell, his eyes filled with muffled confusion. As he continued to gawk at me, perplexity written all over his face, Milton decided to reply for him. "We don't do karate Jack" he said. "We hardly ever speak to each other." Now it was my turn to be mystified. In seeing my misunderstanding, Milton sighed. "We only ever speak to us when you want me to do your homework or taunting me."  
His stern and aggravated expression clearly read "Stop messing **my** friends about", which maddened me deeply. "Why are you guys behaving like this?" I spluttered, complete despondency and utter desperation leaked and seeped out my voice like oil oozing from a gas pump. "Where's Kim?" The mention of our blonde friend's name infuriated the trio. "That horrific cow!" Milton's face was aghast, and his feeble fists were clenched, in dreadful anger. "Why are you asking after her?" Eddie asked, his look closely resembled Milton's deranged appearance. "He wants to get into her pants, obviously" the skinny, ginger muttered.  
This was the last straw. My face grew hot, and I fled the group of boys, and searched for the only reasonable explanation from the only sane one left in the Wasabi Warriors; Rudy lost his common sense years ago.  
As I stormed down the halls, the bell rang. I didn't care about being late, until I accidently ran into Mr Eveson, his arms crossed as his face blew up like a bullfrog. "How dare you . . ." he began, his booming and commanding voice dropping as he saw whom he was addressing. "Oh, Jack it's you!" He chirped up, as my face dropped. He was actually pleased to see me? Can this day get any weirder?  
"That was a fantastic try you scored on Thursday, Jack" he exclaimed, swinging his arm over my shoulders and guiding me throughout the halls. I narrowed my eyes. I don't play football. "Um, I don't play the game, sir" I told him. He laughed, obviously assuming it was a joke. "Ahh, Jack, you're the complete package" he sighed. "Funny, athletic, smart, and very handsome." Mr Eveson looked at me in a awkwardly flirtatious way, that I was so uncomfortable, I shrugged him gently off my shoulder. He took the hint, and nodded, abashed, and continued to lead me to the English room. He swung open the door, and it revealed thirty or so of my peers, all talking to one another. He sat down at his desk, and began the register. I sat in one of three empty seats, beside a timid, twitching pale boy, and a dark haired girl, completley oblivious to everything and everyone else due to her face buried in a rather large book, around six hundred pages, possibly more.  
"Oliver Arnot" called Mr Eveson, proceding to read out the class's names in alphabetical order. It was followed by a lazy and unbothered 'here'. "Katie Atherton." That was followed by a peppy 'present'. A few sniggers echoed around the back of the room. They were soon silent by the authoritative glare of Mr Eveson, who then proceeded to call out other names. He soon got to Kim's name, who did not reply. I looked around the room, to find no beautiful blonde. Mr Eveson simply sighed, and muttered something about 'typical Crawford'.  
After he had finished with the reading of Mikey Webb's name, a convulsively arrogant blonde boy, he closed up the register and told us to open our books at page ninety-seven. I turned to the page, a page filled with poems, sonnets, and other fancy poetry writing techniques and extracts. I was bamboozled, as we were not due to start poetry until after the Christmas Holidays. The semester began seven weeks ago, following the Summer Break.  
All of a sudden, two figures burst through the door, laughing like a pair of hyenas. I swivveled round to see who it was, only to be blown away. There, in front of me was a brunet, his eyes a mix between a deep blue and a emerald green, a hint of warm tenderness and rebellism sparkled in them. His chin was prominent and chislled, like a Roman statue, and he stood tall and proud. Clad in a white, grey, long sleeved v-neck, a leather jacket, dark skinny jeans, and a silver dog tag, he looked very much like a sterotypical bad boy. He was clutching the hand of a stunningly gorgeous girl, her golden hair wavy and hidden from her face with the help of a pale green beanie. She wore a pristine white shirt, with straps, and a pair of blue, skinny jeans, a patch of material ripped on her thigh. Tied around her waist was a blue and red checkered over-shirt, and she wore knee-high, black biker boots. Her hazel coloured eyes were twinkling under the bright light, a similar glint of rebellism and adoration for her companion apparent in them. Her cherry red lips were curved into a grin, and her tanned complexion completely flawless.  
Kim Crawford.  
"Ah, Crawford, Mansfield, you two finally decided to show up!" Mr Eveson cried, midway through writing a task on the board in chalk. "Only fifteen minutes late! The earliest you have ever arrived, am I right?" Kim and her friend simply shrugged, as they sat down at a desk. A desk, meaning one desk. Also meaning, Kim sitting on the guy's lap. She put her feet up on Eddie's desk, whom I had not realized was sitting there, and rested her head on his shoulder. "Crawford and Mansfield, would it kill you to be separate for forty-five minutes?" Mr Eveson asked sarcastically. The pair looked at each other, then shook their heads. "Well then, a detention for the pair of you, after school tonight". Kim and the boy fist bumped, then continued to snuggle up again. "Sorry sir, but I'm kind of booked up tonight" Kim explained. She gestured to her 'friend' (whom I was unfortunatley speculating was more than friends to her), and grinned happily. "2nd year anniversary." Mr Eveson cluched his heart with mock adoration and cooed. "Aw . . . too bad." He dropped the act, and continued to write on the board.  
I felt the whole world tumble down, the class room spinning, as I received the celebration news. 2nd year anniversary, meaning they are dating. And have been, for two years. I clutched my head in puzzlement. Why is everything so different? Why is everyone acting and behaving so strange? Why, am I the only one who feels this way?  
I had a horrible, churning feeling in my stomach that all these changes are my fault. And it had something to do with the wish.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The high-pitched sound of the bell rang, signalling the end of English and the end of my seemingly endless torture. Kim and the boy, whom's name, Josh, I had discovered earlier, were cuddling and giggling throughout the class, making me sick to the stomach.  
I fled the room, only to lean against the wall beside the door, awaiting the departure of Kim and Josh. I was greeted by many of the football players, who also assumed I was their friend, and _team mate._ I decided it was best if I played along, despite having no clue what they were on about.  
Minutes later, the happy couple walked out. Well, when I say walked out, I mean Josh carried a laughing Kim in his arms; bridal style. I pursued them down the hall, discretely, whilst despereatley trying to eavesdrop. "How many detentions do we have this week?" Josh asked, his accent very Southern, not to dismilliar to Kim's. The blonde pondered on the question for a while, and then answered with the number sixteen. My eyes bulged out my head, and I struggled to keep in a shocked gasp. "No, not nearly enough do you think?" sighed Josh, staring up at the girl in his arms, her pearly white teeth biting down on her crimson lips, the light of the sun in the windows reflecting off her cheek. "Nope" he answered, popping the 'p'. He chuckled, and gripped her tighter, closer to his chest. "You know, I really struck lucky with you, Kim Crawford" he told her, softly. She smiled an adorable grin, a few dashes of red appearing on her cheek. "Stop it" she mumbled, looking down at her lap. Josh then leaned in, nearer to Kim's face, and planted his lips onto her, tenderly. They kept the embrace for a few more seconds, unaware of the crowds of people walking by, until they broke apart. Kim smiled, blissfully, at him, as she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear and under her beanie. "Love you Kimmy" he whispered, only just loud enough for me to hear, with a crushed feeling inside of me. If this whole, sweet scene was too much for me to stomach, Kim had to reply, with genuine honesty. "I love you too, Joshie" she responded, her bronze coloured eyes filled with admiration and affection. Josh lovingly stroked her delicate cheek, then waved goodbye to her. She waved back, then headed off down the corridor, leaving me with a distressed and miserable expression, poignant slouch, and an agonising heartbreak.

Kim's PoV  
I threw my small, coal coloured bag under the table, and brought out my phone. I flicked through Facebook, and stumbled across a cute picture, where a handsome brunet was snuggled up next to a blonde girl, both asleep. It took me a few minutes to realize that it was me and Josh, and our friend Grace had taken the picture on Saturday, at a house party she had thrown. I read the caption underneath, to see it read 'Josh Mansfield and Kim Crawford; the bad kids of Seaford High take a nap!' I chuckled, and sent the link to Josh, with the message 'our evil friend' underneath.  
All of a sudden, a shaggy haired boy, his eyes sprinkled with pain and determination, occupied the seat beside me. "That's for my friend" I said. "We are friends" he told me, his voice a charming and endearing sound. I turned my head, tearing my eyes away from the Blackberry in my hands, and surveyed my companion. He had deep hazel eyes, much like my own, with two freckles underneath them, placed like cherries on a cupcake. His chocolate locks, curvy like the sea, were just above his shoulders, and were swept off his face effortlessly. He wore clothes that closely resembled that of a skater boy, an odd site for Jack Brewer, the captain of the football team. His firm and gritted look, an expression usually worn by a hard-work or achievers, both which Jack is not.  
I snorted, and shook my head. "We are _so_ not friends" I muttered, turning back to my phone. This made him moan in annoyance. "We are friends Kim, and you know it!" I thought about this question. There was some tiny inkling (minute mind you) I had deep down telling my self-concsious we were friends, but it wasn't strong enough to consume me, let alone persuade me to say yes. "Jack, we aren't friends!" I cried. "You're a football player, and I'm me!" He burrowed his eyebrows in frustration, and he huffed. "But I'm not!" he cried out, in desperation. "We're friends! Me, you, Jerry, Eddie and Milton!" Just as I had decided to take a gulp of my water, I instantly regretted it, as the liquid came shooting out of my mouth. They sprayed onto an unfortunate passer by, who swivveled round to spit out an insult at me. As he began, he realized who he was adressing, his blue eyes widened to the sice of tennis balls and he released a nervous and regretful squeak. He escaped my vengeful wrath as soon as he could.  
"Me? You?" I choked. "And those three assholes?" The protective and loyal expression that suddenly overcame Jack's features was so out of character, I actually considered believing him. The key word is considered.  
I ran my hand through my hair, untangling the small knots that had silently formed in a clump. "Now why I would I believe you, Jack?" I asked, proping my head up with the help of my hand, my elbow feeling the cold of the desk, sending shivers up my spine and through my body. Goosebumps appeared on my arms, the tiny hairs standing on edge like lampposts.  
"Because if you were anything like the Kim I know, you would" he answered, softly. This caught my undivided attention, and I was intrigued to find out how he knew me me well enough to know why I would be friends with people like _them_. And why I would believe a person like _him._  
"You were something special Kim" Jack told me, firmly. His eyes, which were a very charming shade of brown, glinted with the light from the ceilings. They held the slightest glimmer of hope. "You're still special". And with that he picked himself up and moved over to an opposite desk.  
A brunette suddenly appeared beside me, dropping her bag and textbooks onto the desk. She released a huff, a clear indicator she was exhausted, and turned to me. "Just ended it with Brock" she sighed. I wasn't to shocked, all Grace's boyfriends finish within three weeks, maximum. She checked herself over in the little pocket mirror, and puckered. After satisfied with her appearance, she turned to face me. Her excited expression informed me she had very good news. In a voice unusually chirpy for a recently dumped girl, she squealed in a girlish fashion.  
"And I hooked up with Jerry Martinez." These words brought on a choke rising up in my throat, causing me to break out into a coughing fit. Four bottles of water appeared out of nowhere, held by four eager boys, all smiling a hopeful grin. I took one from a gorgeous black haired boy, who celebrated his victory by kissing my hand in a gentleman like fashion. Charming, and handsome; I should hook him up with one of my friends . . . Kelsey maybe . . .  
I took rapid sips, and handed it back, a grateful smile eminent on my face.  
"Jerry Martinez?" I screeched. Grace's face dropped, and her chestnut eyes filled with hurt. "What's wrong with him?" she murmered, innocently. "Well, for one, he refers himself to 'The Swag King Of Swag', which for me is already a major no-no" I explained. "I think it's sexy" she muttered. This shocked me. It shocked me more than when I found out my 3 year old Beauceron was expecting. "Why?" I asked, my mouth agape and my eyes wide. "It just is" she replied. "I think it's weird" I sighed. Grace swivveled round to face me. Her face was stern and stoney, filled with cold bitterness. "You know Kim, not every boy is as 'perfect' as Josh" she spat out, the words dripping with venom, her voice dragging on 'perfect'. Her face was so distraught, I almost hit myself. It was obvious that Grace had deep feelings for Jerry, something I haven't seen in Grace for a long time. The fact that Grace had so evidently hoped she had found 'the one', that she was blind to the fact that she is a player. Showing any signs of 'deep emotions' for anyone is an immediate sign of weakness. But having these emotions directed at a person of a lower popularity status is practically social suicide. But falling for someone makes you oblivious to reality, and how it affects you. Yet, Grace looked so delicate and wounded, I dropped the matter of popularity.  
"You really like this boy, don't you?" I inquired, gently. She nodded, still fiddling with the hem of her plain red t-shirt. I wrapped my arms around her in a firendly embrace. In her ear, I muttered; "I wish you all the best in your newfound relationhip." She smiled into my shoulder, and when we finally broke apart, we began to laugh, the uncontrollable amusement of the situation forced out of our mouths.


End file.
